


Of Casual Sex & Sugar Bombs

by StellinaGatsby



Series: Of Casual Sex & Sugar Bombs [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: Casual Sex, F/M, Ghoul Sex, Oral Sex, Pansexual Lone Wanderer, Rare Pairings, Vaginal Sex, welcome to rare pair hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-07-01 02:36:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15764874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellinaGatsby/pseuds/StellinaGatsby
Summary: I don't think I've ever seen another fic with this pairing, but for some reason it was in my head.The Lone Wanderer stops to drop of some Sugar Bombs. She and Murphy take advantage of being alone.





	Of Casual Sex & Sugar Bombs

**Author's Note:**

> I don't name or describe the physical attributes of my Lone Wanderer because I want people to be able to plug their own versions of the character into the story.  
> The only description is that she is a cis-gender female and she is pansexual.
> 
> I tried to look at the layout of Murphy and Barrett's living quarters in the game.  
> They don't appear to have beds anywhere and there isn't actually a door on the back room.  
> I took some artistic license.
> 
> Also, this isn't beta read.  
> If anyone has comments, I'm happy to take constructive criticism and make edits.  
> Especially if any male-bodied people have suggestions about the male POV sections of the story.

“Hey, Murphy.”

His eyes flicked up from the Bunsen burner he was tinkering with; it had been on the fritz and he couldn’t figure out why.

“Hey, smoothskin. What you got for me?”

“Here are all the Sugar Bombs I have.” She dropped her pack on the floor with a loud, muffled thump. After a minute of rummaging, she pulled out four boxes of the cereal.

“Ta da.”

“Nice.”

“I’ve got a couple assault rifles here for Barrett, too, if he wants them for the parts.”

“Uh… Maybe. How much do you want for them?”

“You can have them. I’m carrying way too much stuff. My back is killing me. And the parts don’t fit the rifle I use most often. It’s a Chinese model and the parts aren’t interchangeable.”

“That’s… really generous of you.”

She shrugged.

“Where is Barrett anyway?”

“He went out on a scavenging run. We were running out of food.”

“I can bring you food, too, if you want.”

“God. Stop. This is getting to be more than your standard business arrangement.”

“You can pay me if it makes you happy.”

“Where’s your bodyguard? The big ass ghoul you had with you last time?”

“His name is Charon. He’s convalescing in Underworld. He stepped on a couple mines on the Mall and I made him stay put to recover while I made my rounds outside the city. He’s mad as hell about it, too.”

“A couple of mines?”

“Yeah. One wasn’t enough to stop him.”

“Good God.”

“So we’re alone down here.”

“Yeah?”

“You interested in taking advantage of that?”

If he still had eyebrows, they would have disappeared into what was left of his hair. “What now?”

She raised one eyebrow, questioning his confusion. He knew what she was asking.

“Do you generally just proposition people like that? Out of the blue? No preamble?”

“The preamble was me flirting with you every time I’ve seen you for the past year. And yes, when I proposition people, that’s frequently how it goes.”

“I didn’t notice you were flirting with me.” He was lying, but only a little. He had noticed, but had convinced himself she didn’t realize she was doing it. She was so young and fresh-faced, straight out of the Vault. She couldn’t possibly have been flirting with him.

“Hmm. I need to work on my technique: less subtle, more flying brick.”

“Are you serious, kid?”

“Dead fucking serious. Pun absolutely intended.”

“You see what I look like, right?”

“Yeah. And?”

“I… I don’t know. Most smoothskins wouldn’t even consider touching a ghoul, much less… you know.”

“Banging one?”

“Yeah.”

She shrugged. “I’m attracted to people I think are awesome.”

That startled him. “Oh.”

He didn’t know what to say after that. He wasn’t sure if this was a good idea.

“You can say ‘no’.”

“What?”

“You can say ‘no’, if you don’t want to. I won’t be offended or anything. If you’re not attracted to me, or you’re not into casual sex, or whatever. You can say ‘no’.”

He had to think about it. He hadn’t considered her like that for more than a second; he hadn’t even thought to be attracted to her. Something in his subconscious knew he shouldn’t be and had saved him from the potential heartache.

Now that he was looking at her, she did have a pretty face. Maybe he only thought that because she still had all of her skin. Maybe it was just the kindness in her eyes: kindness he knew to be genuine and freely given.

He couldn’t tell what her figure was like underneath her armor and he couldn’t remember having ever seen her wear anything else.

He tried to remember the last time he’d had sex with someone other than his own hand. Years. Maybe decades. It was easy to lose track of time. His younger, pre-ghoul self would have balked. It had been months since he had even masturbated.

The more he thought about it, the more he definitely did not want to say ‘no’.

There was something bubbling up in his chest, something he might have called a crush when he was a teenager, something he might have called lust as a young adult.

He stepped forward, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her flush against him. He dipped his head down and kissed her.

 

She was a little surprised that he kissed her, even after her point blank offer. Given the way he was trying to hedge out of it, she was fairly certain he was going to turn her down.

His lips were rough against hers, their texture no different than the rest of his tattered skin, but his tongue was still velvety and warm.

She grabbed the back of his head with one hand, holding him to the kiss, and grabbed his shoulder with the other.

He was taller than her; she had to push herself up on her tiptoes to reach to kiss him, and he was leaning over her, holding her to him with arms wrapped around her waist.

One hand slid up her torso, going towards her chest. She couldn’t feel anything through her armor; time to get that out of the way. She pulled away from the kiss.

“Shall we get me out of this armor?”

He nodded, eyes half closed. “Good idea.” He led her into the back room; she hadn’t gone in there before, assuming correctly that it was their bedroom.

Murphy locked the door behind them before returning to kiss her again, more urgently than before. His hands roamed over her armor for a minute or two before he broke away again.

“How the hell do you get this off?”

She giggled. “Like this.” She reached behind her back to undo the clasps on her chest piece and lifted it over her head. She repeated the process with the belts and holsters, took the armor off her thighs, then squatted down to get off her shin guards and boots, leaving her in the grey canvas pants and shirt she wore under the armor.

“This I know how to get off,” Murphy said, his mouth finding hers again, one hand going to her breast, palming it through the fabric. He started undoing the buttons, trailing kisses down her neck to the skin he was exposing as he unbuttoned her blouse.

Her fingers on his jaw gently guided him back up to kiss her on the mouth again. She slid her fingertips under the hem of his t-shirt. He grabbed her wrists and pulled away from their kiss.

 

He wasn’t sure why he stopped her, just that the idea of her taking his shirt off made him panic.

“Did… did you want to leave your shirt on?”

“Just… no one has seen me naked since… before. Well, a few other ghouls, but they know what to expect.”

She kissed him once on the lips. “I know what to expect.”

“Do you?”

“I’ve seen other ghouls in states of undress.”

His brows knit together. “Your bodyguard?”

“When we get changed while camping or in a hotel or something.”

“But not like… You haven’t slept with him or anything?”

“No. But I did have a fling with a woman in Underworld for a while.”

“A female ghoul?”

“Yeah.”

“So you don’t  _ really _ know what to expect from me.”

“I promise: whatever you look like under your clothes, I still want to have sex with you.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I just did. If you’re not comfortable taking your shirt off, that’s fine. If you don’t want or can’t have penetrative sex, that’s fine. If you just want to kiss and touch my breasts and dry hump,  _ that’s fine _ . I will have sex with you in whatever way you’re comfortable.”

He was taken aback by that little speech. When she propositioned him, he had automatically assumed she was asking for penetrative sex (as she had just called it) and that was what he had been planning on. That was what he wanted; it had been a while, but he was pretty sure he could still perform. He wasn’t hard yet, but they hadn’t really gotten going yet. And he was nervous, both about her seeing him naked and about his ability to get and maintain a hard on long enough to please her; that was certainly interfering with his arousal.

“I can have…” He desperately did not want to say “penetrate” again. “Intercourse.” That wasn’t much better.

“And that’s what you want?”

“Yes. What do you want?”

“I want the same thing. But first, I want to kiss some more and get the rest of our clothes off. If you’re okay with that.”

If he wanted to fuck her, he was going to have to at least take his pants off. He might as well take his shirt off, too; his chest didn’t look any worse than his legs. It was his crotch that he was really worried about. 

He took a deep breath and pulled his shirt over his head, knocking his glasses askew in the process. Before he had even adjusted his glasses, she was flush against him again, her lips and tongue trailing across his collarbone to his throat. Her tongue flicked against his Adam’s apple and then against the edge of the exposed muscle on the side of his neck.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth.

“Was that okay?”

“Yeah.”

She pulled him down to kiss him again and started working on his belt buckle. He brought his hands back up to her chest and undid the remaining buttons. He pushed the blouse off her shoulders, forcing her hands away from his belt. She whipped her bra off over her head as soon as the blouse was out of the way.

He had always liked boobs: big ones, small ones, perky ones, saggy ones, whatever. Hers sagged a little, like they used to be a little bigger, a little fuller - they probably were before she left her Vault and the Wasteland got to her - but they were fuller and softer than any breasts he had seen in a long time.

He took one breast in his hand and squeezed gently. He placed a kiss between her breasts and felt his cock begin to stir as he did. He kissed along the inner curve of one breast, then the other.

She drew him back up to kiss her mouth and palmed his cock through his pants. She started kissing down his chest, down to his navel, until she was on her knees in front of him. She opened his pants, unzipping her own as she mouthed at him through his open fly. 

He felt his underwear tighten, making his earlier worry that he might not be able to get it up seem ridiculous. He pulled her back up and covered her mouth with his, pushing her pants off her hips, dipping his fingers under the waistband of her underwear.

She pushed his pants down and he stepped out of them, pushing her backwards towards his mattress. He wished he had bedsheets or that his bed didn’t look so dirty, but everything in the Wasteland was like that. Nothing was ideal, but they made do.

She stretched out on the mattress and pulled him on top of her in a languid, fluid motion. Her thighs wrapped around his waist, pulling his groin down into hers. He rolled his hips against her, eliciting a sigh. She tipped her head back, exposing her neck.

He latched onto her throat, in the hollow between her collarbones, sucking a hickey into her skin. He hadn’t given a hickey since he was a teenager, but it seemed like the thing to do.

She whined as he bruised her skin, but she held his head in place, letting him mark her.

She snaked one hand in between them and rubbed herself through her underwear. The back of her hand rubbed against him at the same time, dragging the fabric of his boxers against the underside of his dick. He groaned into her neck.

She pulled her hand out and placed it firm on his hips, pulling him down into her, and bucked her hips against his. Even through the two layers of their underwear, it felt amazing.

He was afraid he wouldn’t last long, even like this, and he did want to actually have sex with her. Or, the kind of sex he had been anticipating; she seemed to count this as sex.

It was now or never. He rolled over so she was on top. He lifted his hips and slid his underwear down. He felt his erection falter slightly as he held his breath while waiting for her to take in the ruin of his body laid bare.

 

She got up on her knees to let him slide his underwear off.

He was still nervous. He had tensed as he rolled her over and he seemed to be trapped at the indecision between fight or flight as he waited for her to react to his nakedness.

She put her hands on his knees and slid them up his thighs, caressing along his inner thighs with her thumbs. His lips trembled; so he was still sensitive there. She ghosted her hands down his inner thighs and back up again. His eyes fluttered closed.

She traced the edge of what was left of his pubic hair and over his hip bones. He clamped down a groan.

“Tease,” he whispered.

“I’m not teasing. I’m not going to leave you high and dry.”

She turned her attention to his manhood. He was at about half mast, obviously aroused but not quite hard enough for her to be able to fuck him. 

He had seemed particularly concerned that she was going to be shocked by it. She had realized before propositioning him that radiation might have done some damage. After all, the male appendage was mostly soft tissue, like ears or noses, which rarely remained intact after ghoulification.

But it appeared that his cock had managed to avoid the bulk of the devastation. There was a chunk missing from the tip, a channel near where it met the shaft about the width of her thumb. He didn’t have any foreskin, but that might have been removed while he was still pre-ghoul, and a large swath of skin was missing about halfway down the underside of his shaft, exposing veins and spongy tissue.

“Does it hurt to touch here?” She stroked her fingertips along next to the missing skin.

“No, not usually.”

She stroked up the exposed tissue. Murphy sighed, his arousal growing. She stroked the same spot a few more times until he was fully erect.

She leaned in and licked from the base, up across the exposed patch, to the tip. His hips bucked as her tongue hit the edge of his missing skin. She swirled her tongue around the tip, sliding it into the channel of missing flesh and thrusting her tongue there.

“Shit!” He gulped in a few breaths. “Fuck. Don’t do that again if you actually want a chance to fuck me.”

“Noted.” She stretched out beside him again, pushing her panties down and kicking them away. He rolled to his side to kiss her again. 

She guided his hand down between her open legs and pushed two of his fingers inside. He picked up on what she wanted and started pumping his fingers in and out, getting her ready for him.

“Oh, Murphy,” she sighed, guiding his hand back away and pulling him back on top of her.

He sucked on the fingers that had just been inside her.

“Shit,” she breathed.

 

God, she tasted good. And she looked good, she smelled good, he was sure she felt good. Her hands and mouth had certainly felt good.

She was slick and he was rock hard, and she had pulled him on top of her. He reached down to grasp his cock and guide it inside her. He got about halfway in before he had to pull back. On the second thrust, he sank all the way to the hilt.

She squeezed him and he exhaled a shuddering breath. He had forgotten how good a wet cunt could feel. He thrust a few times, slowly, testing his resolve. Even years ago, when he still masturbated frequently, his recovery period had been a couple of days. He wanted to make this last long enough to enjoy it; he didn’t know if he’d ever get another chance and even if she was interested, it was going to be a long time before they managed to be alone again.

She grabbed his hips and pulled them down into hers. He thrust again, harder than before.

“Oh, Murphy,” she whispered against his neck.

He set a pace slow enough that he didn’t feel like he was going to lose control, almost agonizingly slow. He wanted it hard and fast, but he wanted it to last.

“Come on, Murphy. Fuck me like you mean it.”

“I’m not going to last if I go much faster.”

“That’s fine.”

“Maybe for you.”

She giggled.

It was getting harder for him to keep his pace slow. His self-control was waning and he could feel himself getting closer to finishing. He wasn’t ready to be done yet. He pulled out, earning a noise of protest from his lover.

He silenced her with a kiss. She pulled his lower lip between her teeth. 

He kissed down her throat, down her chest, her stomach, he kissed along the insides of her thighs up to her cunt.

She took his glasses off his face and set them next to the mattress.

He licked her clit with the flat of his tongue, a long slow stroke. She tasted good, the pungent taste of female arousal; he could taste himself on her, too.

“Use your fingers, too?”

He was happy to oblige. He pressed two fingers back into her. Her walls clenched around them. He writhed against the mattress below him, wishing it was his cock being squeezed.

He licked up from the top of her opening, over her clit, to the space just above it a few times.

“Murphy… A little faster?”

He flicked his tongue more rapidly over her clitoris. She jerked up into his mouth.

He curled his fingers, hoping he’d hit a sweet spot for her. He thought he remembered that working on other women before.

“Ah! Murphy!”

He kept up the quickened pace, dragging his tongue over her clitoris, curling and uncurling his fingers. His jaw was starting to ache; it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, but he was getting tired. He considered going back to fucking her, but she seemed close and he wanted to taste her orgasm.

“Murphy!” she whined, the edge of desperation in her voice spurring him on.

“Fuck! Yes!”

Her back arched and she spasmed, her shoulders curling under, her hips jerking upwards again, and he received a gush of wetness against his chin. He lapped it up, revelling in the sharp change of taste post-orgasm.

She squirmed away from his mouth now, over sensitive after climaxing.

“Get up here and fuck me,” she demanded.

“Yes, ma’am.” He got up on his knees and pulled her to him. He buried himself in her in one stroke, her orgasm providing more than enough lubrication.

Her cunt was still pulsing slightly with the aftershocks of her orgasm and he knew he was only going to last a few minutes at best. He didn’t bother trying to go slow this time.

He grabbed her hips and thrust into her quickly, the slap of flesh on flesh beating out a staccato that echoed off the stone walls.

She pushed one of his hands off her hip and swung her leg up, resting her ankle on his shoulder. He grabbed her calf to hold it there. The change of angle deepened his thrusts more than he would have thought possible.

He closed his eyes. It was getting hard to focus anyway.

“I’m getting close,” he exhaled. His pace started getting erratic, unable to thrust as quickly as his lust addled system wanted.

He felt himself hit the point of no return. His orgasm was just over the horizon and there was no stopping it. He thrust hard and fast a few more times and then white stars burst behind his eyelids. His awareness narrowed to the sensation of climaxing, his hips still thrusting of their own accord. When his cock stopped twitching and he floated down from his high, he was still buried in his lover, breathing hard.

He collapsed forward, resting his head on her chest. She was slick with sweat and so was he; she still smelled better than 90% of the people in the Wasteland. 

“Holy shit,” he murmured into her skin. 

He didn’t want to pull out yet. He knew it would start to feel sticky and unpleasant in a minute, but for now, it still felt incredible.

Her fingers brushed through what was left of his hair and trailed down the back of his neck, making him shiver.

He hoped they would get a chance to do this again. She had said at the beginning that this was casual sex, but that didn’t preclude a repeat performance. He could handle a casual sexual relationship without developing feelings. Probably. He hadn’t developed feelings before. He respected her, and he enjoyed her company, and now he assumed he would have some modicum of attraction to her, but nothing beyond that.

A harsh knock at the door jolted him out of his thoughts. He and the woman still beneath him both startled, nearly jumping out of their skin.

“It must be Barrett,” he said quietly. How much had he heard?

“We better get dressed.”

He supposed she was right.

Barrett knocked again, more forcefully. What did he want!?

“Yeah?” Murphy responded.

“Just trying to figure out where you were.”

“Bullshit,” he said so Barrett couldn’t hear.

Murphy rolled off of his lover.

She stretched before rolling up onto her feet.

“Do you have a towel or a rag or something?”

“Umm…?” He searched around the room. He found one of his old shirts, too ripped and torn to wear.

She cleaned the rest of both of their cum from between her legs. He put his glasses on and watched her get dressed, slowly pulling his own clothes back on. She was back in full armor before he even bothered to find his shirt.

“I hadn’t planned on taking the walk of shame past Barrett but all my Stealth Boys are in my pack.”

She was making a joke but one word grabbed his attention. He felt his stomach drop.

“Are you ashamed?”

She looked at him oddly. “No. It’s just an expression.”

He suddenly thought that maybe he was a dirty secret. No one other than the two of them and their respective bodyguards even knew about their Sugar Bomb arrangement. If she had some sort of ghoul fetish she was trying to keep hidden, he was an excellent candidate.

“Hey.” She placed her hands against his still bare chest. “I’m not ashamed.” She punctuated the last sentence by kissing him deeply, letting her tongue back into his mouth. He almost felt like he could get it up again, but his cock remained satiated and uninterested. 

“You can’t tell me you’re thrilled at the prospect of facing Barrett right now,” she said.

He cringed. He didn’t even want to think about how awkward the next few days were going to be. Barrett already disliked their Sugar Bomb supplier. He didn’t imagine this was going to ingratiate her to him.

“That’s what I thought.” She kissed him again. “Time to face the music, lover boy. Sorry to screw and run, but I would rather be anywhere other than in a room with Barrett right now.”

“Understandable.” 

He went to unlock the door, but stopped short.

“Can we… do this again sometime?” he asked.

She smiled. “I’ll come back in two weeks, whether or not I have any Sugar Bombs for you. Send Barrett out that morning. Make sure he won’t kill our afterglow again.”

“I can do that.”

**Author's Note:**

> A Barrett POV side to this story is available here: [Of Meddling Scavengers & Confusing Feelings](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15784536)


End file.
